Silent Rapture
by HayleyDEPP
Summary: No longer continuing this but please enjoy what I've written. No longer active on this site :
1. In the shop

A/N: For some reason fanfiction isn't letting me edit the first chapter…forgive me for any bad spelling or anything

**A/N: Fanfiction isn't letting me edit my chapters…sorry for any mess; I'll do what I can. But here's the beginning of the story, mmmmm yesh! You'll like it soon enough loves!**

Hazel walked through the dark alleyway of a London street she did now know, drenched, socked in rain as it poured down viciously on her. She walked with a quick pace, crossed her arms on her chest, breathed heavily. She had to seek shelter somewhere.

For the first time in a while, Hazel was afraid. She had never been in London before and it was a big place. Suppose some bugger tried to kill her? But it was only midday and despite the terrible weather, the sun was shining. No one was about in such a mess as this…

"I'll look for an inn." She thought. But she had no money; she had nothing but the tattered dress covering her, shielding her, not very well.

She blindly ran out of the alley and across the street, having to make a rash decision as where to go, or else get drowned like a dumb turkey.

Squinting her eyes, she scanned the area, dark and deserted looking. Suddenly a little shop caught her eye. A pie emporium, it was, read "Mrs. Lovett's Pie Shop". It looked well kept, at least more than any other building around here, with the battered windows and dusty doorways.

So she ran to the shelter of the shop, and without thinking to knock (it _was_ a shop, right?) burst through the door, gasping like a fish out of water. She wiped the rain from her eyes and shivered violently, freezing and hugging her arms around her. She looked up at the sound of a voice in a rather high feminine pitch:

"My my at wha' the cats dragged in! Ya poor poor thing!"

It was a dark haired woman, standing behind a counter, kneading dough.

She walked briskly over to Hazel, guiding her to the booth beside the window.

"Sit now love, bless my eyes, you're a' soaked to the bone you are. Never seen such a sight as you!" She eyed her , tisking away.

She went into another room and brought back a large brown men's coat.

"My Albert's" she said, wrapping it around her. Was that her husband?

"Nice cupa' tea is what you need deary" said the woman, who Hazel now presumed was Mrs. Lovett, and she poured tea into a steaming cup and set it down in front of her. She looked at it for a second…and reluctantly drank it.

"My my, what brings a girl such as you out in this kinda' weather alone?" she said, hands on her hips, as she watched the girl sip the tea.

"And what of' that 'air!" she proclaimed, looking at the chopped off locks of Hazel's remaining dark hair, platted against her head, wet.

She looked up at her. Oh no, she thought. This means I have to talk, have to explain myself. Hazel was not good with talking to people, not good at all. She often found herself finding no words or physically unable to respond. Her nerves pulsed in her brain. She shivered still under the burly coat. What had she gotten into…what would happen to her? She didn't like to talk, but…she had to do something.

She cleared her throat. Summoning something inside of her…

"Uhm.." she began in a small, almost whispery voice. "My name is Hazel Haven, Miss, and well, I came here from Finsbury because my family was going to Australia…and well, uhm, I stayed here because they had no room for me. And my hair…I had to cut it so my father could sell it for a few pounds."

She lied, of course. She ran away when her father said they were going to Australia on the bloody old ship. She did not understand why they had to leave, and she refused, silently of course. "We haven't the money to stay here any longer love." He had said sadly and shortly. She said nothing, but that night flew out of the house and ran until day break. They were probably on the last ship right now…

Mrs. Lovett stared pitifully down at the soaking wet girl and pouted.

"Bless you ya poor thing…" she stroked her wet head. "An now you've nowhere ta go? Lost in the streets, a girl wif no family…'swat the worlds come to it has, bloody immigrants comin' around takin' families away in ships…I'm sorry deary."

Hazel stared down uncomfortably at her tea cup and swallowed. The woman was nice, and pretty too. She seemed safe, like a mother, and she did not like having to lie to her.

There was silence.

"Let's get you nice and dry eh?" Mrs. Lovett chimed suddenly, and helped her out of the booth. Hazel hugged the coat near her as she led her to the other room, which held a huge old wardrobe.

"Luckily for you I 'ave a dress about your size" she mumbled, filing through the lace and cloth. Hazel stood behind her feeling dumb and apprehensive. "Okay, so I can just stay with her as long as she let's me," she thought. "Just me and this nice Mrs. Lovett. All I have to do is ask…"

"Here we are love." She interrupted her thoughts, and held out a light pink dress with white lace trim. "From me old days," giggled Mrs. Lovett. "not likely I can squeeze into it now, so it's yours ta' keep! Go ahead, put it on."

Hazel managed to strip out of her clinging tattered garments and put on the dress, accepting it. It was the fanciest thing she had ever had, being in a poor family, and she felt awkward and vulnerable in it. But smoothed her palms on her sides and managed a small smile.

"Thank you mum" she said in her tiny voice.

Mrs. Lovett disregarded the wet garments on the chair beside the fire. She looked at Hazel, with a bit of surprise in her eyes.

"My my," breathed Mrs. Lovett, surveying her up and down. "Well you look quite nice for a girl with short 'air, that dress brightens that smooth skin of yours."

Hazel stood beside Mrs. Lovett and stared into the looking glass. She did not recognize the girl in the reflection. Her skin glowed around the pale pink of the dress indeed, and her dark hair matted against the sides of her face formed the shape of her profile. Her eyes burned a greenish yellow, she realized. She even had a blush on her cheeks, color for once! She looked…nice. Pretty,even.

"Mrs. Lovett," she began, mustering up her courage. "I have no where to go. I'm only 17 and I 'ave no money, no food…can I uhm…please maybe if-if I could, stay here with you? And help you bake, and clean the shop and do errands or laundry or 'somfin. I, uhm, I can work…p-please mum."

She managed to look her in the eye, hopeful. Mrs. Lovett sighed. "Ah…well…I can't in my good nature throw out a poor thing such as ya' self love, with those big eyes of yours." she said. "'An I could use the help around the bake 'ouse and such, if ya willing to work."

Hazel, with relief, smiled and said "Yes mum."

Mrs. Lovett smiled. "Off to the kitchen then for me ta' show you around."

She followed her out of the room, looking down all the way.

She heard Mrs. Lovett say a cheery greeting to someone, and without knowing it, bumped into the chest of a man in a dark leather vest. She gasped and held her hands there for a moment, scared stiff.

She looked up to see the eyes of a man like no other. Dark and foreboding; pale and brooding, with anger and confusion, and yet a glint of…what? His hair was dark and a strip of grey showed the long fatigue of a weary soul. She stared back wide eyed and speechless. A man. A monster.

"Ah!" smiled Mrs. Lovett from the kitchen.

"I see you've met our lovely neighbor and barber, Mr. T!"

**A/N: that's it for tonight! This took me a while to write…tell me what you think so far. Including a lot of Sweeney in the next chapter, oooh And I like Hazel because she has that natural beauty, and the liberal beauty too, without the long hair and the fancy petticoat shit. Reviews please! xx**


	2. meeting the barber

Sweeney had never quite seen someone like this before

Sweeney had never quite seen someone like this before. The girl below him was slightly trembling, as she gaped at him. She felt damp against his chest. Her hair was dark and short, her face was thin and her full pink lips and eyes seemed too big for it…she had the biggest hazel eyes he had ever seen. As he raised an eyebrow down at her overly frightened face, his own eyes could not help but linger down her neckline to the lace of the pink dress…as any man would do.

"Mista T, this is Hazel Haven, our new assistant, and Hazel, this is Mista Sweeney Todd, the barber who rents upstairs."

Hazel tried to form words on her mouth but once again nothing came. "Damnit!" She thought to herself. "My stupid mouth."

He slowly began to step away…and for some reason Hazel became angry, at his close touch. How dare he linger against her? She glared at him, and in turn he glared back.

"Well don' just stand there luvs, come along dear you mus' be starvin' as well!"

He grunted, and pulled away from her, at the sound of Mrs. Lovett's voice. Hazel managed to gather herself and walk slowly back to one of the booths, where alongside the kitchen Mrs. Lovett was fixating a hard looking pie on a plate.

He has an angry expression on his face that seemed to be permanent, as he snarled at Mrs. Lovett's always so cheery tone. His slit eyes did not yet open.

"Here we are." She cheered, and set the plate in front of Hazel.

The man sat across from her in the booth, glaring and glowering still, as she looked down at the questionable looking pie. She had trouble eating…she didn't like it, not at all. She didn't want to eat this. She swallowed again, uncomfortable, and lifted it to her lips. Just as she took a bite, she looked up at Mr. Todd to find him smirking at her demise. What was so funny?

"What a bastard…" she thought, but was hit slap in the face by the staleness of what was in her mouth. Nothing but a bunch of crust with a dusty, coarse texture. She wanted to vomit it up, what a terrible taste! How could someone live off of this? How could someone digest this without purging? Choking, she held back a gag, and made a little animal sound, as she did.

Sweeney noticed this and felt somewhat aroused by her suffering of the terrible pie and shuffled in his seat…sure it was nothing, really, but he got pleasure from other peoples pain, he could not deny, as his hand went to his thigh.

His murderous rampage of killing his clients and slitting their throats often left him in a sexually aroused state of mind…some sickening trait he had developed along with the pleasure of killing, but he always finished the job himself.

And this girl, who now held back her own bile, would suffer the intake of these "pies" as he had to everyday. At least he would not be the only one.

"I take it she isn't that hungry, Mrs. Lovett" he grinned, not taking his eyes off her as Mrs. Lovett lied a pint of gin down on the table in front of him.

Hazel spit something gritty out in the plate and coughed nervously, pleading with her eyes to him to take the plate away. At this action, he chuckled under his breath almost too heartedly.

Mrs. Lovett sighed and Hazel made a face at the man.

"Don't much blame ya' love, they aren't muchofa treat. No worrys though we'll go to market tomorrow."

She took the disheveled pie and threw it in the rubbish bin, and Hazel straightened her hands in front of her. She already did not like this man, and she knew she would not learn to like him. But she would not be weak and take shit from some freak; she'd defend herself just as much as she could muster up.

"Hazel, your room is right next ta Mista Todd's, just run up the stairs there and I'll be up."

Thankfully Hazel exited the kitchen in a flash, and her footsteps echoed outside.

Mrs. Lovett was prepared to talk with Mr. Todd, but she already knew he was angry with her. He did not like strangers, kids, or people in general. He stared into now where from his seat with the same expression, obviously very, very unhappy.

"Why would you bring' somthin' the likes of a street girl in here?" he said in a low voice.

"Now Mista T, she's a nice girl she is." Mrs. Lovett picked up his empty glass. "'sides, I need the help, we both do. She can ah…do ya' laundry and such for ya' and help around the kitchen wif me. We can defiantly put her ta' use we can, I couldn't deny her."

Sweeney did not want the girl to be here. She would soon find out about the little "Secret" put into the pies, and who knows what? Her fragile little frame would run to the law, and he could not have that. He did not like her now and would not take a liking too her, he supposed. Mrs. Lovett was weak and kind hearted, probably dragged her in without a question, not thinking of the dire consequences.

"Ah," growled Mr. Todd. "I see Mrs. Lovett, your too nice love. Don' worry about it, I'll take care' ov her."

And with that he rose from his seat.

"Now Mista T!" pleaded Mrs. Lovett, blocking his way to the door. "We'll 'ave none of that. She won' be finding nothin, and she'll be stayin' alright?" she crossed her arms over her breast.

Sweeney grimaced at her. Alright Lovett…he thought, I'll play your little games.

"If she messes with wha' were doin," he whispered to her, "then I slit her throat, ya unda-stand?"

And with that he menacingly fled the kitchen and ran up the stairs to his shop. This was nothing but a thread in his ties, he shouldn't fret over it. She's nothing but a mouse, he thought, as he opened his door. He quickly forgot the whole thing and thought of whom his next victim would be, the rush and pleasure of seeing someone suffer, the blood flowing…but he stopped his pace abruptly.

There, by the window, stood the girl with his razors in her hand, HIS friends. She held it up and admired it, touched it, felt it. She did not put it down, as he stood there, and she somehow did not hear his entrance. Fool. No one touched what was his, what was l_eft_ of his. Already, she had overstated her welcome here, by intruding upon him.

Walking quickly, footsteps pounding, the girl gasped and turned around to meet his hand snapping her wrist.

**A/N: oooh! There is the third chapter. Should I continue writing? Please leave comments, I would love some support : I'll update more soon.**


	3. apologies

**A/N- Thanks so much for the reviews :**

**Lady of the daggers- Hm, honestly I did not think of a setting movie wise. Sweeney is defiantly killing people, (obvious) and they are putting them in the pies. I wanted to give it the mood that Lovett and he have been working like this for a while…as for the pie she handed Hazel, one of her "old" batches, lol : I should have told you that , but didn't think to add it. I do give off Sweeney as somewhat of a Machoist here…I think that is proper to his character though, don't you think? Pleasure from pain. And I love Hazel too because of the uniqueness! I wanted to add a girl not so girly and frilly, who might just have a taste in women, but yet finds herself at Sweeny's aim…we'll just see how it develops!**

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_Walking quickly, footsteps pounding, the girl gasped and turned around to meet his hand snapping her wrist._

At least, that is what it felt like, to Hazel, and as he grabbed her harshly, she dropped the razor she was examining earlier, and cried out in pain.

He twisted her arm towards him and quickly grabbed the other one, throwing her against the wall, earning another cry of pain.

"What do you think your doing?" he growled too her, inches away from the side of her face.

"Let go, p-please your hurting me." She whimpered, turning away from him, tears beginning to swell.

He growled again, eager on punishment, but he heard the baker's door slam downstairs. He paused, and for a moment all that was heard were her small pleas.

He let go of the bruised wrist and turned her chin to face his, only a breathe apart. He stared at her angrily, and she stared back with shockingly frightened eyes. "If I ever…"he whispered, finding his eyes ones again on her lips, "see you touching my razors again, I'll make sure you get a _closer_ look."

Her breathing swallowed at the threat, and he pushed defiantly away from her as Mrs. Lovett walked in the door.

Hazel, though, did not seem to realize that he did not want Mrs. Lovett to see them, (else he would have done much worse), and she angrily replied back to him, ignoring the woman, interrupting Mrs. Lovett.

"Alright lo-"

"I was only _looking_ at them; there's no need for you to fucking _kill _me!" Hazel yelled behind him, holding her wrist. She had not remembered the last time she had raised her voice so, or even swore, but she was fucking mad!

Both Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd were silent for a moment; her, gaping at the door, confused, and him, facing the other way, dead in his tracks.

How dare the girl think to even reply to him…no one talked to him this way. His body tensed and adrenaline raced through his veins, he clenched his knuckles.

This little spider wanted to play games, he thought. _Prepare to be caught in my web._

"Wha' on earth's goin' on 'ere?" cocked the baker, looking at Mr. Todd, and then aiding to Hazel's bruised arms.

He turned to face her, and she was still glaring at him angrily. She obviously wasn't threatened with Mrs. Lovett there. He returned with the most devilish threatening face he could conjure up, warning her that this was not the last of it all.

But as he watched the girl whimpering as the baker tended to her wounds…something inside of him made him smirk like a madman. This girl dared challenge him, the devisor of evil? The slayer of men?

The poor weak thing could do no harm to him. It was almost like a game of cat and mouse, he thought. Him playing with his victim until he sent them to there rather unhappy death, blood spilling…perhaps he could enjoy this little "Game" he thought, perhaps he could get some pleasure out of this…he could already feel the tension in his trousers.

That night, Mrs. Lovett had Hazel working hard in the pie shop, on hands and knees scrubbing the floors and walls, which, to Hazel, was a huge job, being that they'd never seen such a treatment in years by the looks of it. While she did this dirty work, Hazel observed Mrs. Lovett behind the counter working on her pies. She seemed to be happy; being that Mr. Todd had many customers today. (hint hint)

"This batch'l be much better' love." She smiled, kneading the dough.

Hazel liked the woman a lot. She was caring and kind, and very beautiful. Her skin was pale like hers and her eyes were dark…Hazel found herself imagining kissing her dark lips as well, once or twice while scrubbing the oven walls, and even taking in her curvy form. "Oh Mrs. Lovett…" she thought, angst ridden at not being able to express her feelings of admiration towards her, for she knew that had to be kept locked away; she was not a fool.

A few minutes later her thoughts were interrupted by Mrs. Lovett asking an all too bold favor.

"Now listen 'ere love," she said, handing her a tray with a pie and ale. "I have to go to market quickly for our dinna' tomorrow. You and Mista T did not get acquainted so well earlier…why don't you bring 'im his dinna' and give 'im your apologies, for me? I'm sure he'll unda-stand." She offered a warm smile.

Hazel just looked at the woman and held the tray like a baby. Was she daft? She did not want to ever see the man again…yet she did not want to live here under such circumstances where he was bent on killing her. And for what? Touching a razor?

"Not much ofa' talka' are you dear? Off you go!" and with that she fled out the door with her hat and coat, and proceeded down the street.

Hazel sighed and slowly walked up the stairs, like walking to her death wish.

At the top, she knocked, and was greeted by a grunting "Come in."

She opened the door to Sweeney polishing his razor at the very spot where he had grabbed her. He stopped this though, and looked up at her as she entered. With a quick glance at him, she set the tray down on the dark chest by the door. She didn't dare look at him, because she found herself somewhat fear struck, being alone in the dimly lit room with him. Suppose he tried to slice her up? No one would hear her scream.

She did not see him put down the razor as she began to talk as fast as she could. Still facing the wall she said:

"Mr. Todd, I'd like to uhm, apologize about earlier today, sir. It was not my part to curse at you or uhm, mess with your things. I-I know my place and don' mean any harm, sur..uhm.."

Suddenly her breathing became heavy again, her heart pounded and her chest heaved, as he walked up behind her, so close to her, while she talked. "I-I was just look-looking It won' happen again sir. I.." He grabbed her waist harshly with one arm, and with his razor in the other hand, grazed her breast with it, the razor tingling on her neck line. Her breathing was the only sound in the room now, coming in deep pants and small mews. He drank in her fear.

He could feel her heart racing, almost hear it. He didn't listen to any word she said, and interrupted her sharply. "You fear me, don't you?" he hissed, as the razor trailed farther down her breast. She could feel tears swell in her eyes at his movements.

"ANSWER ME!" he snarled, after hearing nothing but whimpers, and pushed himself closer to her, grinding her backside against his large erection, which she could definantly feel, but could _not_ understand.

"Yes sir" she cried in a small whimper as the razor cut her skin slightly.

He chuckled at her sobbing voice, her cowering form, her blunt ignorance.

He removed his arm from her waist and pulled up her skirt, his now huge erection closer to her flesh, grinding behind her, throbbing on her. She sobbed at this rash action. "Please sir," she begged, trying to squirm free, much too no avail, the razor trapping her.

"Listen 'ere puppet," he whispered in her ear. "What happens 'ere stays 'ere you understand? And don't take my proposal earlier_, lightly_."

With that he pushed away from her, letting her regain her state of mind. She grabbed her stomach and sighed relief, wiping her eyes, still traumatized. He stood behind her smirking, and turned her around. He grabbed her chin and looked at her eyes, wide and fearful…then trailed down to those lips…again, so big and luscious looking…but all in good time, he thought.

"Sorry love," he said, not really sorry at all, but quite amused at hurting the innocent girl, "You stay out' of my way, and I stay out of yours." And with that, he turned around, and walked back to his razors. "Get out." He spat, and she raced back down to the bakery.

"The bloody demon" she thought to herself, sobbing at the mere thought of his razor so near her throat, and his bulge at her behind. She intended very well to stay out of his way, damn right! She found an old doily to wipe her tears and attempted to straighten herself up before Mrs. Lovett came back.

Sweeney returned to wiping the blood off of his friend, and put the razor back in the box. He had not had that kind of contact with a female in 15 years, he thought, and oh what a rush. Smelling her fear, tasting it, and almost drawing blood from her untouched skin…his member still pulsated through his pants, and as he looked out the window, he began to stroke it half-heartedly, begging for release. He looked over at his picture of Lucy. "Oh Lucy…" he thought for a split second, but that loving feeling quickly faded. No more of that, he thought. He was no longer filled with love and affection, since his wife was dead; only hatred and rage, to take out on victims such as the girl and his "customers". His wife was the only loving part left of him, and now, she was gone from his heart, purposely erased, and instead the hole was filled with just that. Perhaps if there was a shred of hope that she was still here…he would not have turned into the man he was. But as he began to stroke his cock faster now he found he loved being a monster, loved the pleasure of it all.

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**A/N: Yes I know I'm dirty! Lol : I'll have to think more of what to put in my next few chapters. Sweeney as you can see is even MORE evil than portrayed in the movie, and I like it that way. But perhaps in the end he finds that missing loving part in his heart? Psh, no mushy stuff though. Haha, leave comments!**


	4. a change

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2 days had passed and Hazel had not seen Mr. Todd again, thankfully. Mr. Lovett set her to work cleaning the kitchen the next day so that she had no time to bring his trays or call his errands. For this she was glad, because the events the last night had left her in a state of dread. Whilst on hands and knees, scrubbing the oven, she thought of her options.

She had no choice but to stay here, because where else was she to go? And besides, she liked Mrs. Lovett, _a lot_, more than she had planned, and to leave her would break her heart. She could hide in fear of the barber and take his abuse, which she knew would lead to her soon death.

Or…

She could avenge herself. She knew how to punch and kick, her mother had taught her how after that terrible night with Uncle Aderline. Only, her absence from the rest of the world, her isolation from everyone, enabled her to use it. What was the use? NOW was the use, she thought to herself.

And, after hours of contemplation, she decided not to tell Mrs. Lovett about the incident, for she obviously had a strong attraction to the man, and having her own strange attraction to her, she did not want to upset her.

But she would train herself to become _alive_ again, to take back what was deprived of her by damn uncle. She would learn to talk more (she had already had a few conversations with Mrs. Lovett), become less nervous, stop her stuttering and heavy breathing (asthma, was what it was) and regain back her sharp tongue she had as a Haven lass. Show men and this demon Todd what she really possessed inside of her small frame.

And maybe, just maybe she could start eating again. Although the mere thought of digestion made her cringe. This, she decided, she would perfect in time. After all, she was alone in the world now, a girl without a family, as Mrs. Lovett had said, and she was going to have to shape up one way or the other.

The thought of this new life style made her cheery and vigorous, suddenly, and she began scrubbing faster and harder. She was so enveloped in her work and wanting to please Mrs. Lovett, she did not hear the creaking of the door opening and did not feel the presence behind her….

Sweeney walked in, after just slicing another victim, ready to give Mrs. Lovett the news. What he found though, was the mouse, again, hands and knees on the floor like an animal scrubbing the dirty stove. For a while, he stood there, watching her from behind, thinking of what to do next. His lust was always quite well hidden, but a beast raged inside him as the many thoughts of torture on the rebellious bitch plagued his mind. He stabbed the razor in his hand on the counter loudly, digging into the wood.

The mouse stopped abruptly, making one of her little mouse sounds, and fumbled to her feet. She turned around and he could sense the horror in her eyes, as she looked at him, but she tried her best to conceal it, and her lips pursed, her jaw tightened. She stood there for a moment, hands by her side, still in the same dress she wore yesterday.

Hazel wanted to show him she was not afraid of him, and that she could play his little game. She tensed though, uneasy. No time like the present, she thought.

"May I assist you sir?" she said rather impolitely, not taking her eyes off of his demon glare.

He eyed her up and down, probably expecting a tremble or a pleading whimper from me, she thought smugly, and he said slyly:

"Where is Mrs. Lovett?" not so much a question, but a demand.

Before Hazel could answer, Mrs. Lovett popped up from the steps leading to the bake house, humming a happy tune and wiping her hands on her apron.

"Ah, g'day Mista T!" she grinned. His eyes lingered for a still moment.

"The uh… supplies for the next batch of pies are ready, pet." He said to her, eyes uneasy around the girl. "Hiding something?" she thought.

"Oh!" Mrs. Lovett said rather loudly, giggling towards Hazel and picking her tray back up, ready for some reason unknown to Hazel, to go back down to the baking room.

"Oh, dear ; pour Mista Todd his gin for me, eh'?" she smiled, and walked back down the steps.

Sweeney had already seated himself, expecting the baker to assist his any need, although he really was not parched. He averted his stare to the mouse as Mrs. Lovett left and her eyes lowered.

Persistently though, she reached for the bottle of gin, walked over to where he sat, and poured a glass on the table in front of him, not looking him in the eye. She was not quick enough to pull away though, for her grabbed her arm, and eyed the purple bruises.

"Now, where did you get these poppet'?" he asked mockingly, smirking up at her. "Betta' be more careful while on your knees." He sustained a chuckle.

But then she did something he did not expect from a mouse.

She yanked herself from his grip.

"I got them from a dickhead bastard." She spat back at him, disgusted at his arrogance and his handsome yet even more wicked smile.

This though, angered him to his peak, and as she walked away, he rose from his seat and without warning, slapped her across the face, sending her flying to the counter with a yelp, and the gin bottle crashing to the floor.

He grit his teeth and turned her on her back, blood appearing on her lip. He took the razor from its hold on the table and forced it to her throat, no longer thinking of the game he was playing for his own sick amusement, but very intent of killing her.

He glared down at her struggling form.

"That my dear will cost you greatly. You do not know who you are dealing with, and THAT will be your downfall." He hissed.

He pushed the razor closer to her throat, a thin line of blood appearing causing her to gasp.

He laughed a little too loudly at her fear, not careful as to the baker hearing him. And, as a last minute touch, eyed the pathetic thing's full lips, now even tastier looking drenched in blood….

He pushed his mouth onto hers, biting down and sucking it from her tongue.

She gasped at this, she had never been kissed before! But as he crushed his lips to hers the razor dug deeper into her skin, scaring the wits out of her. She remembered what her mother had taught her and as his grip loosened just a tad, she kneed him in his man hood, un-expectant to him, and he grunted harshly, pulling back and dropping the razor.

With an intake of breath, she jumped up and grabbed the blade from the floor, pushing him around so that now _he_ was the one against the counter. She held it close to his throat and looked him sharply in the eyes. He could see anger deep inside of them, and they glowed yellow, fierce like a lion. If it were a stronger person maybe, he would be a bit tense at this movement, but with the thin frame of the girl, she was nothing but a mouse with a lions eye. The aching in his groin was too powerful though and he found himself unstable to move.

"It seems we are at an impasse, sir." She said to him, razor still in the air.

"You obviously do not like me, I do not like you. I have seen the likes of what I am dealing with and must say, that I will _not_ surrender to you, so do not take this sick _pity_ on me!" she snarled

. And before taking a step back she whispered, closely to him as he had her, relishing on her position: "Oh…and I lied to you, Mr. Todd. I do _not_ fear YOU."

And with that, she dropped the razor back on the ground and ran up the steps out side to her room, leaving the barber dazed in his state of pain and eyes glowing red from the beast once again inside of him raging to kill.

* * *

**A/N: Ohh another fight! Sweeney is enraged, as you can see. Not sure how I can even put his lust/anger in words, but all in the next chapter. Also, I changed the summary so it would sound better with the story. I'm not so sure of what I'll be putting in the next few chapters…I'm open to suggestions? I'm having studies at school to do, you see, but I'll see what my perverted/witty' mind can construct XD leave reviews if you want more ! I appreciate them! xx**


	5. finding a past

* * *

For the next few days, Hazel felt more confident in her air towards both Mr. Todd and Mrs. Lovett. She practiced conversations with herself at night, with memories flooding her mind of when she was once a loud mouthed, vibrant and charming youth, and she took it from there. She slowly progressed with her eating habits, nibbling on fruit here and there when she could, but still eating like a bird, said Mrs. Lovett. She did not fight again with Mr. Todd, but instead brought him his dinner trays every night.

"Here you are, Mr. Todd." She said in her cheeriest tone, and left the room briskly.

Even every evening, when Hazel and Mrs. Lovett where cleaning up, he would come down for a glass of gin, and make small talk with Mrs. Lovett, (although it was her doing most of the talking). How did Hazel last such a long time, without progressing fear or provoking anger in him? She simply did not look him in his demon eyes. For if she did, she'd probably jump right out of her knickers. That was easy enough, she told herself. Mr. Todd noticed this as well, and as she would walk past him she could feel his eyes searing holes into her.

Sweeney did not provoke any more argument yet either, though. Once he saw that the mouse was not taking any action towards him, it angered him at first, but then calmed himself by not letting the likes of a mouse pervade his thoughts, distracting him from his plan of revenge; his plan to kill the judge who turned him into the monster he was. "This little game will remain neutral, for now." He thought, as he swallowed the remainder of his gin.

After Mrs. Lovett finished her share of the dishes and cleaned the counter top, she rushed Mr. Todd to go with her into the living room, to sit and "chat". He reluctantly followed the pull of her arm.

"Finish the dishes for me, will you love?" she smiled sweetly towards Hazel, who held her eyes downcast and hands in the wash bowl. "Yes mum." she replied.

Whilst busying her self with the dishes, Hazel could not ignore the shrill giggles coming from the living room, where Mrs. Lovett was probably pouring her heart and breast out to the cold barber. The very sound of it made tears dwell on her eye lids. She cared deeply for Mrs. Lovett, she could not deny, and hated the fact that she was head over hills for _him_, who was obviously highly incapable of loving anything, like all men. What would Mrs. Lovett think if she really knew about the barber, and his evil ways? The things he had done? Her efforts to persuade her to love _her_ were in vain though, she would never love anyone of the likes of me, Hazel thought, and she's perfectly head over hills for him. More importantly than anything though, Hazel wanted her to be happy and protected- something she would not find in the arms of a razor wielding man.

She finished the dishes, and with a heavy sigh grabbed the barrel to collect laundry in and headed up to the barbers room, not wanting to interrupt the two smitten'.

She opened the door, with a loud creak, and walked over to his bed. There she collected the tossed trousers and shirts that lay on top. Noticing that this couldn't possibly be all of it, since she hadn't collected laundry for a week, she put down the barrel and dug under the frail mattress. Maybe he had shoved some down there.

Her hand hit something hard. She pulled it out, frightened, and was surprised to see it was a picture frame; of a woman holding a baby. She was pretty and blonde, and looked not much older than her. "Hmm, strange" she thought, putting the picture down on the floor, and, aha! Found a discarded shirt , and pulled it out, only to gag her own screams with her hand.

It was covered in blood! Dark red soaked right through, splattered on the front. Had he cut himself? Had his razor slipped? Or, was he just vicious enough to KILL? She could not move or breathe for a long minute, but her astonishment was broken when she heard a loud yelp from Mrs. Lovett downstairs.

"Bloodying another shirt!" she thought, as she ran down the stairs, her heart racing again, to find the barber towering above the woman, crying, on the ground. He held his razor in hand.

"I'm sorry Mista Todd! Oh please I men' no harm!"

"You will never be my wife." He whispered harshly, stepping back. "You will never replace her, you will never-"

"Mrs. Lovett!" Hazel screeched, interrupting him, and ran over to her, helping her to her feet. The barber looked at her with confused rage.

"Don't you touch her!" Hazel yelled at him, trying not to look him in the eye, trying hurriedly to rush the stricken Mrs. Lovett into the kitchen. Although by now, she seemed to calm down, holding on to her shoulder and catching her breathe.

"It-It's quite alright love." She said, looking towards Mr. Todd. "Forgive me Mista T, I won' be coaxin' you again."

He just glared, at both of them, and Hazel helped her into the kitchen, face flushed.

"Gett offa' me now!" Mrs. Lovett said, shoving her away, tears of anger brimming on her eyes, and the sudden harshness of her voice made Hazel flinch in pain.

"Les' go ta bed now dear." She said, trying to maintain her voice, annoyed and embarrassed. And with that fled to her room.

* * *

Later that night Hazel was lying in bed, thinking of the events earlier. Mrs. Lovett had yelled and pushed her away, something she never thought she was capable of doing. _Why?_ And that damned barber, hurting her like that! How could they both be so daft? Especially Mrs. Lovett!

After a few minutes of lying in bed, eyes wide open, she decided to recite her conversations to herself since she couldn't sleep. She sat up in bed, straight, and turned to the window.

"Hello sir, how are you today? She spoke aloud, pretending there was a man in front of her.

"G'day mum, can I be of help? 'Ow are you love? Would you like a drop of ale, sir?"

This continued on for about 5 minutes, and Hazel did not hear her door open, lightly, and someone stood a few steps away from her.

* * *

A/N: Haha, betcha can't guess who that is XD duh. As you can see, Hazel has somewhat found out about Lucy, and also the killing of his customers. She's too enveloped with Mrs. Lovett to realize she's in on it though. Well this chapter was pretty long for me to write. Thankfully tests are over at school and I should be adding a few more chapters within the week  Please review!


	6. Who are you?

There he was; the damned barber again. Hazel looked up into his eyes, hovering over her, staring into them through the darkness for the first time since the kitchen incident. She was beaten, she realized, staring into them, hypnotized.

Her mind rushed and died at the same time. She was strong and weak. Alert and confused. Brave and scared, but most of all, slapped, in the face, once more, after looking at his handsome eyes and realizing that, she had lost another person she held beloved to her: Mrs. Lovett. First, her childhood, then her family, now the woman she loved. To this man, and who could blame her; with a face like that? In a way he was the person who had slapped her into this harsh truth, by his hatred towards her from the beginning. She would never be whole, she realized, never be complete. And she would never really be alive.

What's this? He thought. Why are her eyes not glazed at my gaze, her face not paled? Why, does she seem un-surprised?

Before he could make another remark, he was stricken with her words.

"Who _are_ you?" she whispered, never taking her eyes off of his, which now began to shine with budding tears.

He furrowed his brow in even more confusion at her question. The mouse has to be completely batty, he thought to himself. Perhaps she has always been this way, not that I give a damn. But it would bring me a lot of pride to know if_ I_ have made her this way.

"Beg pardon?" he frowned, stepping closer in a menacing walk, but she was still un-phased.

"Why do you do it?" she asked again. "Why do you do the things you do? Why do you hate me? Why do you hurt others? What has happened to you?" she whispered more fiercely, tears spilling on her cheeks.

She felt no pity for him yet, but she felt that she had to uncover his motive for being such a terrible human being. She could not live without knowing why this man who she had regretted meeting more than anything was this monster. Yes, all men are monsters, she thought, but this one is different. This man has been shattered, like me. And as she thought about this concept, she realized, at the prospect, that she could very well be a monster too.

His stomach churned at her questions. Did she know? Why was she asking him this, and how dare she?!

He growled, and grabbed her arm in an impulse to hurt her. She was unmoved for once. She just continued to stare at him.

He relaxed for a bit. His expression was still cold.

"What business is it of yours?" he asked her. "Why do you care to know, mouse?"

She heaved a breath. "I love Mrs. Lovett." She cried. "I really do love her. I like staying here, with her. I like helping her and having her around me. I don't want her to be hurt. I want her to be happy!"

He stared.

"But what I don't understand…"she interjected, "is why you are so cold. Why you choose not to show remorse for anyone. I saw the picture, of the woman and child." His grip tightened at this. "Who is she?" she gasped at his hold "Was she your wife? What happened to her? Please-"

He let go of her with a push, and she landed on the bed, her head against the pillow.

He took his gaze off of her and looked at the window, off into the distance. His face had become more morose, she noticed, something she had not seen in him. She didn't know he could have any emotions other than anger.

"I had a wife…"he whispered, still gazing at the window. "a child. She had yellow hair. She was beautiful. And Johanna…"

Hazel dared not move from her position on the bed. She listened to him intently and slightly baffled.

His sentence trailed off.

"You…you can tell me..." she coaxed, scared of the sudden silence that flooded the room.

At the sound of the voice, he averted his gaze to her.

His eyes were of glass, and she thought he was on the verge of tears.

Suddenly it was like he snapped out of a dream. He swallowed and his body tensed once more.

"Go to bed!" he barked at her. "And don't dare go in my room again!"

She didn't say anything or even more as he pounced out of the room.

Sweeney was suddenly aware of the prospect that the girl went through his things. She had looked under his mattress and found the picture of Lucy. And if she had done that that meant she had also seen the blood soaked shirt he had hidden from her. And that, in turn, meant that she would soon find out about his killing rampage and his plan for revenge on the judge.

He wanted to hit himself for what had just happened to him. No one had ever asked him about his wife before. He never really had the option to tell anyone. Talking about Lucy gave him a kind of release, like killing, he thought. And for a moment when he told the mouse about her, he was lost in thought of her yellow hair, and had no worry at all…

But now, that was over, once again. The mouse was getting too curious. She was becoming too much of a burden.

* * *

**A/N: sorry for the late update. I was working on my other story. Anyway, so the story unravels to Hazel! Review please!**


	7. Friday morning

**A/N: I'd like to give a special thanks to Lady Saffron of the Daggers for all of her wonderful support! I really appreciate it!  
**

**And to answer your questions:**

**If you look back you'll notice that it says "later that night Hazel couldn't sleep so decided to recite her conversations". So pretty much she was just lying in bed at night, shaken by the earlier events. And I wanted to give the feel that Sweeney was coming in just to hurt her, abuse her, ect. You know the feeling. And ooh indeed, why did Hazel reveal her love for Mrs. Lovett? And at that, **_**why**_** would she even open up to the man she hates?! All in good time my dear, XD I want to give the feeling that she wants to create peace with Sweeney. (And obviously, that takes a lot of time!)**

* * *

The next morning, Hazel awoke from her bed with an empty feeling in her stomach. _Hunger_. She had never felt this feeling after what had happened with her uncle. And even though it was a pain, it felt so good to feel it again.

Trying her best not to remember last night, she got up and slipped on a blue dress Mrs. Lovett had bought her. She looked at the mirror and saw that within the past few days, she had become more familiar with her reflection.

Getting to sleep last night took ages, because she had a huge impulse to run to Mrs. Lovett and pour her heart out to her. Either that or go to the barber and beg for more answers to her questions.

And now that she thought back to the conversation, she realized that she had talked more last night in 5 minutes than she had in years. And all to wrench open a man who probably didn't even remember her name. Oh no, she had not discarded him calling her "mouse".

She walked into the shop to find Mrs. Lovett putting up the dishes. When she saw her enter the room quietly, she said "G'mornin love" but did not smile.

Hazel approached her quietly.

"I'm sorry about last night, mum." She said. "I did not mean to impose or harm you in anyway, I-"

"No need ta worry about that Hazel," said Mrs. Lovett hastily. "Jus me being a little over friendly ta Mr. T, and he's a burdened man at that. No worries though, he apologized as well! He really is a nice gent once you get to know em'" She grinned brightly.

Mr. Todd… had apologized?

Hazel found that hard to believe, but at the same time she did not expect him to say the things he had said last night, either.

Hazel smiled. "I'm glad miss." She said. "You know I'd never do anythin' to hurt you…."

"Enuff chatter, love, it's all over and done wif now! Here, I've made you a pie for your breakfast, a growing girl should always have something for her breakfast, and when your done let's get started for today's rush, it is Friday!"

Hazel sat down in the booth and quietly but somewhat savagely devoured the pie. It was one of the good ones.

She was embraced by the feel of filling herself with something.

Several seconds later, lost in her own pleasure, she jerked her head alert at the gawking Mrs. Lovett; a funny yet freaked look on her face.

"Ya mus be hungry!" Mrs. Lovett chirped humorously after a few minutes of Hazel clearing her throat in embarrassment and chewing as fast as she could.

Hazel just stifled a nervous giggle after she got up and began to make the batter for the pie crust.

So it was she and Mrs. Lovett, in the kitchen on a Friday morning making pies, getting ready for the loads of customers that were surely to come tonight. As Hazel was pounding the dough, she was lost in her own thoughts of Mr. Todd, for what reason she did not know. She tried her best to listen to the drabbles of Mrs. Lovett, as she always enjoyed doing, but today her mind was tuning her out.

"We'll 'ave to go get you a new dress." Mrs. Lovett eyed her as she bent over to put the last of the pies in the oven.

"Yes dear, always got to look dolled up for tha customas!" Mrs. Lovett nudged her elbow and winked at her.

Hazel laughed and said "Yes mum."

Just as Mrs. Lovett began to drone on about how many more pies she was going to have to bake, they heard footsteps descending down the stairs.

Her stomach tightened at this but she remained calm, reminding herself that she was with Mrs. Lovett, who also seemed to tense a little as the barber himself waltzed into the kitchen.

"G'mornin Mr. T!" Mrs. Lovett said in a somewhat false cheery tone.

He just nodded towards her, looking weary, and Mrs. Lovett poured him a glass of ale.

He did not look at Hazel. She dared to glance at him, and saw that he probably had not even recognized she was there. He sat there at the booth, drinking his ale, and looking down for a few minutes, both he and Hazel seeming to be drowning out Mrs. Lovett's chatter. When he was finished , he slowly arose from his place and began to walk towards the stairs.

Ignoring him at last, Hazel looked around on the counter.

"Mrs. Lovett, I seem to be out of meat filling. Here, I'll jus go down to the bake house…"

Both Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett stopped dead in their tracks, looking at each other. His stare threatened her, saying "_Do something_."

"Ahh uh, no luv! I'll do it, you done quite enough, I jus remembered I need you to go outside and uhh, sweep the steps!"

She gave Hazel a little push towards the door. Hazel dumbfounded and confused, watched Mrs. Lovett quickly descend down the steps to the bake house and then looked at Mr. Todd.

He looked side ways at her for a split second, but it held no scowl or look of disgust. It was more of a weary, tired look; As if he wanted her to leave him alone, as if this game was finished.

She grabbed the broom beside the door and walked outside to sweep the steps to his shop.

* * *

"Ah, love what about this one' eh?" Mrs. Lovett gestured towards a rather ridiculous looking gown that looked like a wedding dress.

Hazel's expression was enough of an answer, and Mrs. Lovett sighed and rummaged through the rest of the dresses.

Both Hazel, Mrs. Lovett, and Mr. Todd had gone to town (Mrs. Lovett had a great time persuading Mr. Todd to come) and they were all in the attire shop, looking for Hazel's dress.

Sweeney had hated the idea of even coming with the 2 women, agitated with them both. He scowled, standing beside the door of the shop, watching the baker and the girl sort through dresses.

Mrs. Lovett scanned the shop, noticing he was not there. When her eyes landed on him, her gaze turned weary as well.

"Mr. T, your lookin' miserable. Come 'ere and help us look for a dress will ya?"

She was somewhat teasing at this request, but to her bemusement, he slowly strode towards the table at which they were sorting through. Hazel's heart slightly quickened as he stood a mere inches beside her, feeling his gaze on her.

She looked up at him. He was looking on the table, now.

"This dress," he said, pointing to a dress of crimson with gold lining.

He picked it up from the pile, and looked her straight in the eyes. At this, her stomach lurched, as if something was fluttering around in her. What was this feeling she felt, as he looked at her as a human, and not a …mouse?

"You should wear this." He said matter of factly, holding it up to her.

She stared into his eyes and took the dress out of his hands, examining it.

All the while Mrs. Lovett stared behind him, also surprised.

To break the silence, she said "An' just your size too , aint it!?"

She laughed and took the dress from Hazel, bringing it to the shop keep and giving her several coins.

Mr. Todd looked back at the table of dresses while Hazel stood there still staring, and when Mrs. Lovett said "off we go!" he nodded his head towards the door to her.

She followed behind him, all the while thinking of how beautiful the dress really was. The demon barber has good taste, she thought.

* * *

**A/N: I'm leaving you in somewhat of a suspense in this chapter. Because in the next one, the rush that evening, something will take its turn ;) You'll notice that Sweeney's character is starting to soften up at all these arguments…or so you think! Review please!**


	8. Giving into desires

Sweeney was in his chamber once again, staring out of the window into the nothingness of the overcast sky. It was never sunny in London.

Why he had chosen the dress for the mouse or even came along with them today, he did not know. Something inside of him forced him to go, even though it was the last thing on earth that was expected of him.

Watching her look for a dress had somewhat reminded him of times with Lucy, which he hated remembering. He had stood by the door and watched her; small and fragile, bending to Mrs. Lovett's every whim, not thinking of herself but of others, as Lucy always did…

He grunted again at these thoughts and looked in the mirror at himself. He did not look like the type of man to be thinking these thoughts. He was a killer, a murderer, a monster bent on revenge. Why was he so perplexed by a mere girl? He was a lion and yet his thoughts seemed to be flooded with the image of the mouse.

But as he walked around his quarters, busying himself with his razors or dusting off his chair, he could not brush off the feeling of longing and angst that bubbled inside of him. Images of walks in the parks with Lucy and Johanna surfaced and the conversations they would have, the giggling of the baby and the smiles played on his beautiful wife's face.

He had not felt that with Lucy for over 15 years, and he wanted it so badly, now. It was as though he was finally realizing that he was indeed, a man, and that he had needs and wants and desires, even though he despised the human race and all of the fools in London.

After about an hour of bashing himself, telling himself to shut up, and forcing thoughts out of his mind, he opened the door to his shop and very slowly, step by step, walked down the stairs.

* * *

Hazel closed the door to her room with a heaving sigh. She and Mrs. Lovett had finally finished the last of the pies. And after an hour of setting things up outside, the first swarm of customers came in and Mrs. Lovett had shooed her up the stairs, telling her to get dressed and cleaned up.

She now began to undress, while staring at the dress on her bed. He had picked It out: But why? Was he going to be nice to her now that they had had this sort of "talk"? Why was he suddenly not so furious, but more…calm?

She thought on this heavily but sadly as she pulled on the dress and surveyed herself in the mirror. It looked like something a princess would wear, not a servant type girl with short hair.

She liked it very much, but pouted at her plainness. Just as she was cleaning off her bureau, someone knocked on her door.

"Come in." she said loudly, laughing, thinking it was Mrs. Lovett and pleasantly amused at her cheery excited manner tonight. She liked seeing Mrs. Lovett happy.

But as she smiled and looked up her expression turned to stone. It was the barber, standing there, looking at her and then closing the door. Her heart pounded and threatened to burst out of her rib-cage. Suddenly her thoughts raced to the night a few months ago, when she had first came here. She swallowed.

He did not seem to advance towards her, but stayed in his position at the door, folding his hands behind his back and surveying her in the dress.

Sweeney did not know why he was here, in the mouse's room. His mind had told him to come but his body had not. She stood there with another dumbfounded expression. Her full lips pouting, and her eyes large and a deep yellow, like a lion…

"The dress," he managed to cough out of no where, nodding his head towards her. "It looks nice."

She stiffened at this and just stared at him. He could tell she wanted to say something but seemed frightened. He remembered now, also, the night he had in his quarters with her, a long time ago…

"Thank you." she said in her tiny mouse voice, sounding like someone had just told her something unbelievable.

Then there was a long silence.

Standing here, looking at this girl, he found himself walking on air for some reason. He was betraying himself, he thought, for his mind wanted to embrace her but his body and soul wanted to hurt and kill her just as he had wanted all along. But he was in too deep.

Hazel did not know what was going on, what the barber planned to do. But some how her body became more relaxed as they stood there in silence. She dared herself mentally to ask him more questions about his wife and daughter, thinking that may be the reason why he was there. Or, on second thought, he could be there to hurt her again, or to scold her.

Like he was reading her mind, he said out of the blue:

"My wife's name was Lucy…" He almost whispered it.

She looked up at this, into his eyes. They were big and sad and dark. Full of sorrow and what looked like pain.

He cleared his throat. "She had yellow hair. We uh…used to live in the tenant I preside, with our baby, Johanna." He walked closer to her as he talked.

He stood in front of her now. "She also…used to wear fancy dresses."

He let out a small laugh at this, not to her but to himself, thinking of how daft he must have sounded.

Hazel's eyebrows furrowed. "I saw her…in the picture. She was very beautiful, and so was the baby."

He looked at her and she smiled lightly, trying to cheer him up. His eyes were glazed, foggy.

"Yes." He whispered faintly. He was now looking into her eyes with a deep longing, she could see, and it confused her. She couldn't help but widening her eyes, as she always did when she was confused.

"She was killed. Murdered, by…a man. A judge, and I… was sent to prison." He continued to stare into her eyes and his words came out in jumbles now, as if he did not want to say it (which he didn't of course)

His voice became fainter. He looked into the girls eyes and for a moment found solace again. It felt somewhat good…to tell everything, to someone. The truth. To let them know that once, he was a human too, a normal man. And that he had a beautiful wife, who he loved, and cherished…but he lost all thought as he looked into her eyes…

Before Hazel could configure just what was going on, her shoulders were being gripped tightly, and the barber's lips were crushed against hers. The room was completely silent, except for the sounds of him kissing her deeply and her dress being ruffled by his hard grip.

She made a small animal sound as his lust exploded and he advanced on her. This made him even more aroused. They stood there, for a full few minutes, like this, him with the very intention of loving her like he did Lucy, for just this once, to relieve himself of all his burdening desires.

But to his great and ultimate anger and disgust, Mrs. Lovett barged in on them both. He pulled away from her just as he heard the door burst open, both of them taking a breath of air.

He turned around quickly, flushed. Damn this vile woman! She would pay deeply for interrupting him, this would be her last time….

Mrs. Lovett was of course confused at the presence of Mr. Todd in Hazel's room. She had gone to his shop looking for him and had not found him there, so after frantically searching everywhere she found him here, of all places. But as she burst open the door; she did not bother asking questions or even hesitating in the presence of Hazel.

"Mr. T, tha judge!" she hissed loudly, wide eyed with delight. "He's here!"

_**The Judge**_

Sweeney's growling expression turned to stone at her words, and just like the snap of a finger, his thoughts drained. He completely erased his thoughts of the girl and his desires, they, seeming nothing but a mere misdemeanor now.

Finally, his day had come. This night was his…and only his. Not to share with anyone else, not these 2 women certainly! He strode past Mrs. Lovett, muttering "send him up" to her and walking up the stairs in a rush.

Mrs. Lovett's heart skipped a few beats at what was soon to come. She looked at Hazel and said "Down stair's luv, now, we 'ave customers waitin!" and boomed down the steps.

Hazel stood for a moment, once again, and as always feeling like an idiot! But still struck by the mans powerful kiss. Why had he done that? She didn't know, but she knew it had scared her out of her wits…she had never been kissed by a man…well like that. She would much rather it had been Mrs. Lovett, but well, it was a kiss strange as it seemed…

And why were they so intrigued by this judge? She pondered this as she walked down the stairs towards the sounds of laughing and chatter. She could understand maybe, why Mrs. Lovett would be happy about a high power coming to the shop such as a judge, but why the barber? Why would he care? She was so enveloped by the the thought of his kiss, she did not remember his earlier words: _"She was murdered, by a judge."_

* * *

She was not able to process these thoughts into an answer as customers swooned around her and called her to their every need when she walked in with the ale. What a rush it was indeed! Women were cackling and gossiping loudly beside their husbands, drinking vigorously and roaring laughter rolled off the table. Men winked at her and some pulled on her skirts rudely, while women complimented her dress, questioned her hair (which she had gotten used to) and rudely called to her for more pie.

As she was pouring a gentleman perhaps his 10th glass of ale, she eyed Mrs. Lovett directing a man up the stairs to the barbers shop. At the top, Mr. Todd had taken his jacket off and had his shirt unbuttoned. He looked relaxed and waiting, signaling the man to come in with his hand. He looked to be of high importance, a long tailored cape and boots shining black in the night, she figured he had to be the judge that had spoken of earlier.

Several minutes later, Mrs. Lovett joined her in loading more pies onto trays and bringing out ale. Although, Hazel seemed to notice that Mrs. Lovett seemed to do more gossiping with the women than helping her serve the customers. Usually she would not mind, because she loved Mrs. Lovett and wanted to please her as always, but she seemed agitated at her rude state of mind tonight.

They slowly began to run out of pies as customers greedily begged for more and Mrs. Lovett accepted coins in her change purse. With weary bones, Hazel marched into the kitchen, her feet aching and her waist pinned down by the heavy skirts of the dress.

She opened the small oven to no avail, finding no more pies. She looked out the window to find Mrs. Lovett in "deep conversation" with a few women outside, and with a sigh, decided there would be no harm in going to the bake house and retrieving more from the large oven herself…

* * *

**A/N: -wipes sweat off of forehead-**

** this chapter was so long, I decided to post-pone the rest of it until the next chapter. Well, there's the "connection" if you will, between Todd and Hazel after seven long chapters! More of that soon to come. Oh and also, a little note: In this story, I've teased the plot a little. Lucy is not alive as the beggar woman. Although she is one of my fave characters, I wanted to keep her a memory to Todd, and having her come back as in the original story would be too much to handle what with Hazel there and all. And obviously, there is no Toby either. Just the baker, the barber and Hazel! With the sudden appearance of the judge, you can imagine what's in store for the next chapter. Talk about suspense! ;) review please**


	9. Terrible secrets revealed

**A/N: in the beginning of this chapter, you will notice that 2 events are happening at once, with both Hazel and Sweeney. So I'll just separate them so you won't be confused! :)**

* * *

Hazel opened the door to the bake house and walked down the steps, slowly in her heavy dress.

She opened the second door, heavy as it was, with a grunt, and entered the dark basement.

It was black, very black, except for the glow of the huge oven.

She stared at it, amazed at its size. She slowly walked towards the room where the pies were, and her nose was assaulted with the stench of something burning.

"_My god, what is that smell?!"_ she thought, wrinkling her nose and coughing a bit. As she looked around she noticed a sewage trail leading to a hole in the ground.

"_Hmm, sewage wastes."_ She thought with a shudder, and looked towards the large meat grinder. It still had a few pieces of meat at the bottom of it, she noticed, as she walked towards it. It looked gross, to her, for she never was fond of meat and the look of it raw was even more revolting. She admired and both pitied Mrs. Lovett, looking around, at her having to deal with the meat and the stench and the heat of the bake house every day.

* * *

Sweeney could not hold back his devilish grin as the judge took his seat in the barber's chair, as comfortable as could be.

"_I have you know, you sniveling vulture." _ He thought, as he wrapped the cloth around Turpin's body and tied it around his neck.

His heart seemed to literally be jumping for joy. All of the men he had slain. All of the throats slit and grinded into food for others. What he had finally be waiting for, what he had been killing for, was a mere inches away from him. He was the king of kings at this moment ,and nothing could take that away from him.

The judge noticed the air of the barbers' sudden delight.

"I'll have you know, I came here simply on an impulse sir, although, you seem to be in a very merry mood tonight, Mr. Todd." He said intuitively, surveying the dingy room with a raised brow.

"Oh…yes sir, and why not? Customers are abundant tonight, with Mrs. Lovett's lovely pies, don't you think sir?" he chimed with a false tone. He began to mix the lather.

"Ah yes, the baker." Turpin grinned. "I supposed I would be happy too, if I were you, Mr. Todd, Being around that curvaceous woman all your days. And the girl, -her assistant, I presume? - She is not so bad on the eyes, either." He chuckled.

Sweeney grimaced at his disgusting nature but chuckled as well in response, barely listening and choosing not to let these thoughts interrupt him.

"Of course sir."

He smoothed the lather across the judge's face hastily, his fingers trembling.

* * *

Hazel wiped the sweat from her forehead and sighed annoyingly at the heat of the room.

"_Damn oven!" _she silently cursed, resting her hands on her hips as she looked for any more pies that she and Mrs. Lovett had baked today. She knew there had to be at least a few more, they had made tons, after all.

But since she had never been inside the eerie room, she was not familiar with the place, and was walking around like a child looking for her mum.

"Ah!" she squeaked triumphantly, as she finally spotted a whole batch of pies on a shelf in the corner. She walked over and began stacking them on her serving trey, counting them all.

"So many bloody pies." She mumbled to herself.

As she pulled the last pie from the back of the dirty shelf, she noticed something odd.

Grabbing it, she looked at the hard pie in her hand. It had something dripping out of it…a dark liquid.

She made a face, and set her tray down on a table. It was probably just not cooked well enough, but the color made her curious. It was no good anyway, so what harm was she doing? Taking the pie in both hands, she split it open…

* * *

Sweeney slowly opened his case of razors, and pulled out one his shiny friends. Holding it up to the light so that it would glisten, he looked at her admiringly and said to her through his thoughts:

"_Your night has come; your desire can be filled at last."_

"You see Todd," the judge droned in the background. "My ward, Johanna…she has betrayed me in the utmost manner. She has run away from her humble home, she has left me, recklessly, run off with some sailor bastard." He spat.

Sweeney stiffened behind the man and put his hands on the chair.

Johanna was gone. Gone? She was somewhere were he could not find her…with some…man. Was she safe; was she warm and well fed? His jaw tightened at this, but then he calmed himself. She was no longer in this parasites grasp, he realized, and now he was going to vanish from her life for all eternity. She was set free. (Or so he hoped,) Like a bird out of a cage…and one day, Sweeney swore, he would go look for her, wherever she may be.

"Well I guess that…" Sweeney hesitated. "Her fate is more sealed properly, than her mother's then, right sir?" Sweeney hissed into his ear, lingering beside him, drinking in his awareness of the situation he had stumbled upon.

At these words Turpin turned sharply to meet the familiar eyes of the barber…the same ones, he realized now horridly, that he had envied many years ago. Could it be…could it _really_ be him?

After such a long time, being comforted by the thought of the man captivated in a prison cell, possibly dead or beaten and out of his reach, and now to find him standing before him with blood hungry eyes, Turpin's own pupils dialed a few centimeters. What a terrible turn of events, what a wicked play on his karma.

First, the ward which he had stolen and would soon prize had escaped from his grasp, and now, her father had come back and had been here all of this time, without him knowing.

"Benjamin Barker?" he whispered angrily, in disbelief.

Sweeney smiled evilly at this for a few seconds and then screamed at the top of his lungs in precious victory:

"_**BENJAMIN BARKER!" **_

With that the blood fell from the judge's throat, sealing his fate, forever.

* * *

Hazel's eyes were the size of saucers. Her breathe quickened, her asthma coming back to her, and it came out in deep pants. She looked down at what was in her hands.

The pie had burst open and the dark liquid was drenched on her fingers. The look and smell was all too familiar. _Blood._

She dropped it on the ground, stepping back. The room seemed to swirl with twists and turns around her…she looked up at the shelf again.

There sat, beside the rack of pies, what looked like to be a tray of teeth and human fingers. Jaw bones. Toes. A human HAND.

Looking at this, developing the images in her mind, she knew this was not real. She had to be somewhere else, in a bed time horror story or some foolish fairy tale. Right?

Her breathing became shallow, and for the first time, she was so enveloped in fear, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Just as she did so, she heard a rustling noise and then a loud _THUMP_.

She began to sob in complete fear that something was going to kill her down in the basement. Surely it could not be Mrs. Lovett or even the barber doing this…it had to be some monster or evil killer.

Eyes still wide with horror, she looked to her side to find a…what? A body! A bloody body of a man, the judge, _the judge!!_

Her hands came to her mouth, covering it.

He was wearing a white sheet, covered with blood. The same sheet Mr. Todd used on his customers. His skull cracked at the impact of the floor. She had never heard anything like it before.

_Oh my god…Oh my god! _ Her mind raced and she screamed again, this time choking on tears and bringing her hands to her chest and trembling in fear, her legs buckling under her and dropping to the cold hard ground.

How could she have been so blind all of this time?

Looking around the room for an escape, her thoughts raced and her eyes blinded before her.

"_All of this time. Mrs. Lovett not letting me go to the bake house. Defending the barber. Not letting me go into his room. Customers never coming down the stairs. Him trying to kill me with the razor. His wife. The judge. The man of power, killing his wife. The pies. the pies suddenly filled with meat human meat. Human flesh, I ate human flesh I served human flesh I lived with a man and woman who killed people I left my family to live with murderers monsters I fell in love with her a monster he kissed my lips the monster he slit peoples throats he killed his customers I lived with murderers monsters"-_

She thought back to the barber's words, he had spoken, not so long ago…

"_She was killed. Murdered, by…a man. A judge, and I… was sent to prison."_

Nothing made sense, yet everything was clear to her now. Everything was perfectly clear as her stomach lurched and she felt the verge of fainting; as she vomited near the sewage drains and trembled and shook with tears.

* * *

"_The girl!" _

Both Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett thought the same thing at the same moment, seconds after they had heard the scream coming from below.

The customers had not heard it, Mrs. Lovett noticed, as they continued to chatter loudly.

"Scuse me dear" she said to a rather drunk man, and ran breathlessly to the kitchen. Why had she left the girl alone near the bake house? "_Oh god…Mr. Todd is going to kill me and her both!"_

* * *

Sweeney's smile etched out of his face and his razor dropped to the floor, no longer talking to him but just a lifeless weight of metal in his hand that he could not hold.

He knew that the scream was the girls and that she was in the bake house.

He knew that she had seen the body, and that she had found out both he and the bakers occupations. What he did not know, was how she was down there in the first place.

He ran down the steps as fast as his legs could carry him towards the kitchen, cursing the damned stupid baker for letting the girl in the bake house when they had exclusively agreed that she would never be able to go down there.

Rushing down the steps with his razor in hand, he could see the figure of Mrs. Lovett running in her skirts ahead of him towards the glare of the oven.

He could not think clearly anymore as both he and Mrs. Lovett stopped behind the girl kneeling on the floor.

Her hands were bloody, her face was in a look of shock, tears streaked her cheeks and she was completely white, trembling, shaking with retching sobs and attempts at screaming.

Mrs. Lovett's first thought was to stop her from making so much noise, to go to her and hush her, but the sight of her was too much to handle.

She looked beside her at Mr. Todd, whose eyes danced with fire and his face and shirt was covered in blood. Her heart burst, knowing that the look on his face meant he was going to kill her, he would have to kill her.

She scurried to Hazel and put her arms around her.

"Hush, hush love!" she all but shrieked, not in a very comforting tone.

Hazel turned around and pushed the baker off of her, and stood up to face both of them. The expression on her face was unexplainable.

Hazel felt like the lowest fool on earth. She remembered times back at her old house, for what reason she did not know. She didn't know why she stood there looking at them both and remembered being at home with her sister and her mother, out in the garden, walking down the dirt roads with her large and happy family.

The barber was covered in blood; she saw, unsurprised after seeing the body of the man dumped a few feet away from them. She could not find any words, and wrapped her arms around herself

"Hazel…love…" Mrs. Lovett stammered nervously, looking from her to Mr. Todd, who did not take his eyes off of the frightened mouse. "Calm down' deary, your jus frightened is all.

"What is all this?!" Hazel screamed at them.

"I don't understand this! This is…this is..s-sick!" she hissed, looking around at the pies.

"Hazel…" Mrs. Lovett still tried to get her to calm down.

"Go upstairs." Mr. Todd ordered her, without taking his eyes off Hazel.

Mrs. Lovett looked at him, fearful. But she did not want to be in this situation. Tears sprang to her eyes at the expense of the girl. Yes, she cared for her, but she had put this upon herself, she supposed. Although, she could not help but feel guilty about allowing her to stay here. And also some what foolish, with thinking that she would never find out about the ingredient into the pies. What could she do about it now, though? With one last regretful look at Hazel, she bounded up the stairs, sniffling. She slammed the door behind her and tears sprang down her cheeks as well.

Hazel ignored all of this, and she was too shocked to be scared.

"You…you kill people!" She said, looking at him and his blood soaked body.

"You killed the …the judge man because, he, he killed your wife!" she sounded like a child as she choked on a sob.

She began to fidget nervously now, as he moved towards her, fully aware of the bloody razor shining in his gloved hand.

He stopped a few steps ahead of her.

"I was just returning a favor." He said quietly, calmly, flatly, like this was a perfectly normal conversation.

Hazel was surprised, she expected him to blow up at her, insult her, as she was sure he would the first few weeks she had lived here. She was aware now that within the past few days his attitude had totally changed.

"He killed my wife…I killed him." He whispered to her.

She managed to stop sobbing and listen to them speak. She tried to find a spark of understanding. She gave herself time to think.

She could understand his need to kill the judge. After all, he had apparently had done a great wrong to him. Now that she thought of it, she would probably want to kill him too. So although it was grotesque and insane, she couldn't blame him.

But what about all the other customers? What about the innocent men who came into his shop? And what was the sickest of all; the pies. Why did they do something so…insane! And how had they come up with it? She stood there in silence, looking at the man quizzically.

Sweeney knew the girl was thinking. Her silence towards his words told him that she understood his actions towards the judge. And he was still very happy and felt triumphant, for what he had finally accomplished. And perhaps if the judge was his only victim, he could let the girl go. But she knew everything. The customers, the pies, he and his razors. And he admitted to himself that, along this game and plan he had lived the past few months, his lust for blood was still dry. He could not live without the drive of killing, the pleasure of pain from others. She knew this, too, and could take it to the police. She could ruin it all for him, just as the judge had done so many years ago.

But yet he felt a since of something he could not explain with her. She looked nothing like Lucy, and yet it was like looking at a photograph of her. Perhaps it was her innocence, of being young, confused, scared, and vulnerable. Looking at her now, he almost felt redundant to kill her. Like he did not want to…

Penetrated by his gaze, Hazel did not know what to do; all she knew was that she was in a basement, with a man who had just killed someone, holding a razor, beside human remains.

* * *

**A/N: **

**This is probably the most climatic chapter I have written so far. Yeah, pretty much. This whole scene will continue in the next chapter. I'm contemplating whether to continue on with the story or to finish it with an unhappy ending in the next few chapters or so. Depends on how I look at it. And yes, once again, you'll notice some changes to the original plot. Johanna escapes with Anthony, whom Todd does not know, and of course, Mrs. Lovett is not killed. The chapter following is going to be pretty…graphic, you could say. Lol. So keep reviewing! ;)**


	10. Coldhearted

**A/N:**

**Lady Saffron- I'm loving all of your reviews :D! And to answer your questions: Well, the customers where outside eating on the Friday night rush…as in the movie, so they did not actually see Todd because he was inside and there are 2 sets of stairs; one that leads outside and one that goes into the kitchen on the inside. And OMG I have a million typos in these past chapters, I'm terribly sorry. I fixed them but fan fiction obviously isn't letting it appear. Please forgive me, but you can get an idea of what I'm saying. I hate typos too though! As for Hazel's attitude on Mrs. Lovett, you can see she was just getting annoyed and realized Mrs. Lovett is somewhat "bossy?" And in the previous chapter, Hazel lost all love for both Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd for the horrible realization that they are indeed cannibals (Ex: "Hazel pushed the baker off of her") **

**I'm not sure how I'm going to end this story, tbh. I don't believe in happy endings although I do like to have nice events leading up to it. Pretty much it's because of my outlook on life: bad things happen to good people and there are no pretty fairy tales or happy endings. I like to stick to the truth, you see, but I really like this character and I worship Sweeney ;) Sorry I ranted. But everyone keep reviewing and I'll continue to write! **

**WARNING- This chapter has very graphic..uh…I'll just say it-SEX. So if it's not your thing, don't read and don't flame!**

* * *

_Penetrated by his gaze, Hazel did not know what to do; all she knew was that she was in a basement, with a man who had just killed someone, holding a razor, beside human remains._

Hazel looked at the barber whose face had now softened. He was looking at her now, as if contemplating something in his mind, thinking.

She wasn't sure if she stood there for 10 seconds or 10 minutes, but with his razor still beside him covered in blood, she thought of her own life for once, and with a sharp intake of breathe, ran to the stairs of the bake house.

Sweeney was caught off guard by this, although it may have been expected. He hesitated and then ran after her, her heavy skirts no match for his long legs.

Just as she was climbing up the first step, he grabbed the ties on the back of her dress, causing her to trip on her own skirts. She let out a scream of pain as she fell face first on the hard wooden slope.

Sweeney's mind raged with terrible images as he pushed the girl up, who was now crying and writhing in fear, her upper lip beginning to bleed.

The judge raping his wife, Lucy dead, killing the judge, having his way with this thing…perhaps he deserved it, he thought, for all he'd done.

15 years was long enough of a wait right? And how could he deny it to himself?

Hazel was scared; frightened out of her wits. He had her by the back ties of her skirt and her arm, pulling her towards the room with the glare of the oven shining the walls.

In a pathetic attempt to save her life, she said quietly: "Please, Mr. Todd, don't kill me." Her voice shook with tears and she chocked on her words.

The barber said nothing.

Sweeney decided not to think on this. A dark cloud shadowed his mind and for a few seconds he felt somewhat of an outer body experience. He brushed it off, though and with a small grunt pushed the girl to the ground in front of the hot oven.

Hazel looked up in fear of what was going to happen. Her vision was blurred by tears as she saw the image of the barber grab his knife and advance on top of her.

"No!" she yelled at him, remembering the night with her uncle many years ago. How could this be happening again? If only she had stayed in her room that night, if only she had gone to Australia with her family, if only she had chosen an Inn to stay in, if only she had been nice to the barber, if only she had stayed with the customers instead of coming down to the basement…

Sweeney's breath quickened a few paces as he grabbed the razor and looked down at the mouse beneath him. He almost felt like bursting out into raucous laughter, seeing her there, helpless, weak, crying, and scared. Her fear rushed through his own veins and he felt an all time high of pleasure, as his erection grew larger against the fabric of his pants.

Without any more hesitation, he used his own hands to rip open the neckline of the dress he had chosen for her to wear. She screamed and scrambled under him at this, but with his razor mere inches away from her neck, in his hand, she dared not try to push him away.

He noticed her full lips trembling, still bleeding from the impact of the stairs, and unsure of which move to make next, captured her lips with his in a devouring kiss. His mind spiraled into complete ecstasy at this, which he had not done in so long.

She began to scream into his mouth in a pleading movement at first, but as he moved his razor threateningly against her skin, they died down to small whimpers. He continued to tear at the dress beneath him, her top completely torn off now.

"_Thank goodness she is so plain as to not wear a corset or petticoat_." He thought as he broke the kiss and stared down at her bare chest revealed. Even still, he did not say a word as he caught his breath and attempted to scare her with a devilish look, but as he glanced at her face, noticed her head was turned, she was whimpering something, and her eyes where tightly squinted shut.

He ignored this, for he could hear his own pulse charge, his own heart beat, as he took one of her small breasts in his hand and kneaded it roughly, her nipples now erect from the sudden change of temperature. She let out a small scream as he began to abuse it, pinching her as he came down, biting her neck, trailing down to her chest. He harshly leaned back on his heels and tore the skirts of her dress off of her, revealing her knickers, which he instantly ripped off with his razor.

Hazel wanted to scream as loud as her lungs would allow her. She wanted to scream out for help for someone, even though she knew no one would hear her, no one would come to her aid because of the locked door. She lay helpless as the barber continued to touch her in ways she had never been touched so ruthlessly and cruel, not even by Uncle Aderline.

As the tears wouldn't stop spilling, she felt like a helpless child once again as she lay there naked, embarrassed and deeply afraid, but she could not make a sound.

Sweeney could not contain himself any longer as he rubbed the enlargement beside his thigh, looking at this mouse beneath him. It was the first time he had seen a naked woman (girl, none the matter to him) in 15 years, yes, but he had never seen one like this, in _this_ situation.

Love making with Lucy had always been… loving, treasured, pure and clean. That was with old foolish Benjamin Barker, though, he thought. His masochism was pleased, at last.

He took the time to eye her up and down slowly, taking in her humiliation. How exciting, to be the first to penetrate this, he thought. And he began to chuckle as her body trembled and shook.

He quickly pried her thighs open and with a scream Hazel said "Please stop this Mr. Todd!" as he began to rub his fingers inside her private areas.

"Shut up." He growled at her, the first words he had spoken yet.

Hazel began to panic, seeing that no matter what she did, he was not going to stop. She took her chances and propped herself up on her elbows, then trying quickly to get up. It was to no avail though, for he angrily slapped her in the face at this action and she was sent with a groan back to the floor.

Enraged, Sweeney took his fingers out of her and brought himself and the razor inches away from her cheek. Her eyes widened and she realized her face and body was covered in the judge's blood that was all over him. The thought of it made her sick.

He was inches away from her, when he whispered: "What now, Miss Haven?"

Her breath stopped for an instant, for this was the first time he had ever said her name, she did not think he would ever address her in this manor much less her last name.

"Do you fear me now?"

She remembered the day in the kitchen when she had held the knife to his throat and told him she did not fear him. Now thinking back to it, she felt like a fool, as if having to admit she had brought it all upon herself.

"Do you?!" he screamed at her when she did not answer, making her shudder.

"Answer me, bloody bitch!"

"Yes!" she screamed, closing her eyes to fight tears, whispering "Yes."

He let out a sharp "Ha!" and quickly unbuttoned his pants. Seeing this, she squeezed her eyes shut and silently prayed; something she hadn't done in a long time.

Sweeney felt a rush of pleasure wash over his entire body as he forcefully entered the girl. It had been so long since he had had sex, and for her, well never. He paused there, for a minute, savoring the feel of being inside of her, while she screamed now all too loudly at the pain. Soon he began moving rhythmically, remembering what technique he had left-although, how could a man forget it?

Hazel's whole body went numb as a pain she had never experienced before mortified her body, like being broken in half. She did not yet open her eyes.

Sweeney began moving faster and harder with each thrust, all the while thinking of the rush of blood spurting from the judge's throat and the shocked expression on his face as his last breath was cut short from him; The sparkle in every eye of a customer foolish enough to come to him, only to be murdered. He was all too clever for anyone else, he knew, and he began to grunt louder and deep.

This continued on for so long Hazel could have guessed an hour or two, although that was of course an exaggeration. After the first few minutes she stopped crying and just lie there, listening to the barber grunting and wincing as he dug into her sides. She opened her eyes, finally, to see his pace slowing down.

Sweeney thought of Lucy, once more. He was tired of explaining to himself just how much she meant to him. He had loved her, and no one else. And as he thought of his wife, he continued to move inside of the girl, but with less force.

_Would Lucy have wanted me to do this? _He thought to himself.

He looked down at the girl and saw that she had opened her eyes. They were no longer a fiery yellow but more of a weary hazel color…like Lucy's. Her whole expression read "hurt" but why would he care?

Hazel felt some other emotion she couldn't name as she looked into the barber's eyes for the first time. They were dark, clouded, and wrathful. What was he thinking, just now, as he stole something precious from her?

Sweeney was nearing his climax now; he could feel it pounding in him. When he finally reached it, he saw not Hazel beneath him but his darling wife. _"I'd never hurt my Lucy, like he hurt her."_ He thought, as he slowed down and released his seed at last, with a heaving sigh and one last groan.

Hazel winced at this but sighed as well as he pulled out of her. She turned her head to avoid looking at his private area. She was scared now that he was going to kill her. What a terrible death, to be hurt like this, deprived of all innocence by a man, and then ruthlessly murdered. Although, what was the point of living anymore, if this was all that was in store?

When he slowly arose, she immediately covered her bare chest with her arms and folded her legs over, finding the ruined dress useless. Her throat was raw from screaming and her cheeks were dry with tears.

For a moment she lay there, looking at the unmoving legs of the barber beside her, not looking up. She noticed now the stench that rose in the air as a result of being beside the oven. Her body was slick with blood and perspiration, and her private areas felt as though someone had taken a butcher knife to her, she realized with shame, and she wanted nothing more than to leave here.

She let out one last single sob as the barber moved to the side a bit.

"Stop that crying!" he yelled, making her cringe into a ball.

And before she knew it, he unexpectedly threw the razor down inches away from her. It hit the floor with a soft "clang". It was covered in blood but still shining.

She looked up at him, baffled.

"I love my wife." He said flatly, plainly, nodding his head to her. Then glancing at the fire of the oven, he whispered.

"Very much."

He fled the room, his boots clanking loudly on the hard floor. She almost wanted to say "Don't leave me here!" but would not dare even look at him as he walked away, closing the door behind him.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Hmm, now you see my dark nature o.o I warned ya' though. So this is another climatic chapter that I wrote…I'm thinking of continuing in a more dark matter, I've got an idea but it isn't very well processed. But yes, please please please leave reviews! For those of you who just read and enjoy but don't review, please think on your evil ways :( lol. I'm thinking of updating on a slower pace, you see. xx**


	11. Escaping Hell?

**A/N: I've decided to take a turn on these next few events. Hopefully you guys will keep reading and reviewing for me! Although none of you seemed completely shocked, I'd like to explain the rape that went on in the last chapter. You see, Sweeney's lust for blood is potentially quenched when he kills the judge, but his longing for his dear wife is not yet settled. He is a man-hating man, so to speak, and he knew that Hazel knew the connection with he and his wife and that she had some sort of power over him because he had told her about Lucy, which he did not like. So when he raped Hazel, it was somewhat of a "prize" for him, you could say, for killing the judge, as well. But in doing so, he had more realizations of Lucy, which lead him to his last words to her instead of killing her. It may be going to far and heinous at the least, but hey, that's life kiddos. And also, I had to purge my evil thoughts on the keyboard, you see, I'm somewhat of a masochist myself ;) Not in a sick way, though! You can understand, with a mad man such as Sweeney Todd, whether it is in the movie or not. This act of violence is highly possible, when one has lost emotion for a long period in his life.**

* * *

The next morning, Sweeney arose from his bed without much emotion. He sat up and looked at the blood ridden barber's chair in front of him, and rubbed his eyes.

It was completely expected of him to kill the girl. But after what had happened, he had a long talk with his inner demons.

First of all, he was highly ashamed of himself, which was very new to him because he had never taken pity on another soul. But he realized, horrifically, that he was no better than the man who had taken his Lucy away from him. The one thing he had been obsessing over, bitching on, filling his thoughts with; he did it just as the judge had.

Second of all, there was no purpose in killing the girl. She was not going to tell anyone. He was a wise person, and instead of merely slitting her throat, he would just let her go. She was not going to go to the police and tell them what she had found out, what he did. She could barely talk to any customers that came for a pie, much less to high prized authority figures. She was still a mouse, although a girl, and sadly, something to her nature told him that he had broken something that was already shattered; beaten something that was already dead.

Was he to simply move on with his life, then? Would the girl continue to stay here, with him, and live with what had happened? He had killed the judge, got his revenge, (which was still sweet on his lips, or so he thought) but emptiness still lingered inside of him. He knew that every time he looked at that girl again, he would want to be with her.

* * *

Hazel was numb to the bones, minus the rampaging buzz between her legs. When he had left her there, that night, she thought she would die of fright. She laid her head on the hot, hard floor and tried to cover herself with what was left of the dress, and cried silently for one last time. Not tears of anguish, but of shame. For deep down inside, in the pit of her stomach, she knew what had just happened to her. She had been defiled and derailed. But, while the whole terrible scenario was going on, she found that she kind of…well…_liked it._

But how the hell could that be possible, she had cursed to herself. He was evil and didn't give a damn about her. Yet with her first REAL sexual experience, she had gotten a little bit of pleasure from it, but that couldn't over come the pain. She had liked what she felt with the handsome man inside of her, and she hated herself for just that.

She was so overwhelmed she had almost forgotten the biggest issue: the cannibalism. It struck her completely daft that Mrs. Lovett would do something like that. The barber, sure, but Mrs. Lovett, _sweet_ Mrs. Lovett, no!

Instead of having to stay the night in the basement, as Hazel feared, about half an hour later, Mrs. Lovett came tumbling down the stairs in her night gown, carrying a candle.

She took one look at Hazel and tears brimmed on her eyelids.

"My god." She whispered as she set the candle beside the ground and went to Hazel's side. For a moment, Hazel forgot her new found hatred towards her as well, and looked to her for comfort in the old Mrs. Lovett that she had once loved.

Mrs. Lovett cupped her face and brought her up in her arms, attempting to help her stand. Hazel staggered.

"I'm so sorry, dear, I'm so sorry. God help me." Mrs. Lovett sobbed these words repeatedly as Hazel cried to her, "He hurt me."

Mrs. Lovett had managed to get her upstairs quietly and into her own bedroom, where she covered her with a blanket. Hazel swiped her bangs back, and sniffled, looking at Mrs. Lovett.

She was staring down at her, sternly and sadly, as if she could not believe what was before her eyes, as if she did not believe, and refused to believe.

Hazel could not believe herself that Mrs. Lovett, after seeing this and possibly hearing it, could still have love for Mr. Todd.

"He hurt you," Mrs. Lovett said after a long while, no longer using her pet names or "cheery baker" tone. "I dunno 'ow this happened, Hazel, I'm so sorry."

Hazel just continued to stare at Mrs. Lovett, her eyes now drooping, her head pounding, not really wanting to listen anymore, but just wanting to sleep and get away from all this.

Her eyes began to weigh her down and the image of Mrs. Lovett in her white night gown blurred as they began to close.

Before she fell into a fitful sleep, she saw Mrs. Lovett come up to her and cup her face in her hand. They were cold against her skin. "He didn't kill you," she whispered through tears. "You're alive." She patted her cheek, lovingly.

Hazel shut her eyes completely and blacked out. Yes, she was alive. So what now?

* * *

After Sweeney had cleaned the blood off of his chair, Mrs. Lovett came in, of course cautiously, and tried to pry him answers from last night. He just stood, wiping the blood off of his razor and ignoring her.

"Go clean up that damn mess downstairs." He told her dryly, when she finally gave up on her interrogation.

Meanwhile, Hazel washed herself in Mrs. Lovett's bath, and changed into a new dress. She noted several cuts and bruises along her body, and her head still pounded. When she finally arrived out of the safety of Mrs. Lovett's locked door, she saw her coming up the steps of the bake house with some bloody rags.

Mrs. Lovett saw her and immediately dropped the rags beside the door, and swallowed. Hazel spared no time for bullshit.

"I'm leaving, Mrs. Lovett." She said flatly, hands folded across her chest. "I'm packing my things, and I'll be gone in a few minutes. Just wanted to let ya' know."

She took towards the stairs. Mrs. Lovett trailed behind her, saying "Now Hazel stop this! Where are you ta go? No family, no money, you'll be on the streets!"

Hazel paused for a second and shut her eyes tightly while her hand was on her door, grimacing at the truth in Mrs. Lovett's words. She could not stay here , though, in this place, with this man and woman, playing these games, and living in fear.

"An' what should I do 'ere?" she asked Mrs. Lovett, not turning around. "Help you carve up corpses for your precious pies?"

She quickly opened her door and locked it, leaving Mrs. Lovett in a state of shock.

Outside of the door, Mrs. Lovett busted into Sweeney's room, extracting a devilish look from him, beside the window.

"I hope your happy," she said through hot tears. "Hazel is leaving, because of your monstrous ways!" she stomped out of the room.

Sweeney stared after her and thought for a moment, taking a sip of tea from his cup.

* * *

Hazel began rummaging through her dresses from her wardrobe one by one, staggeringly. Half of them, Mrs. Lovett had bought her for cheap kitchen work, all a white or brown or pasty green. She grimaced as she pulled out the one with pink lace that she had been given the first day she came here. She remembered it now, her soaking wet and admiring herself in the mirror, along with the baker. A one happy time, shattered by an outburst of monstrosity.

She sighed, realizing that she could not take anything with her, because she had no cases or anything. She'd just have to make do with the maid's dress she had on. She looked in the mirror one last time.

What she saw was a girl she did not know. Someone beaten and tired, no longer more vibrant and strong, but the same damn girl from her youth, she thought with an angry, faint laugh. Things never change.

Suddenly, the locked door behind her opened, to her fright, and there he was, behind her, at her door, his reflection in the mirror. Her eyes widened. He had come to kill her.

He instead held up a key in his hand towards her face in the mirror. "Mrs. Lovett had a key." He said plainly.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said quickly, after closing the door and seeing her apprehensive breathing coming into structure again.

She did not turn around but continued to stare at him through the looking glass.

He put his hands behind his back and walked to the window beside the door. For a minute, he did not say anything but merely stood there as if waiting for someone to barge in or something. Hazel lowered her eyes and hoped for something on her dresser she could stab him with. Nothing, damn.

"I'm sorry." Was the first thing he blurted out, loudly and not in his usual hoarse tone. She looked back at the mirror.

"You think…I am an evil man, Miss Hazel." He said, not turning from the window.

"You are perhaps correct."

Then, more hesitation.

"My intentions were never to harm you, though." He said

"You…remind me of my wife. You shame me by arousing feelings inside of me that I have never felt in years. You have a control over me that you could have picked and choosed as you please, if you were the evil-minded one and not I…"

Hazel turned around now, listening to him intently. Somehow she knew he would not hurt her, even though his words pinned her hands to the dresser.

He turned around as well, slowly. He wore a pained expression as he looked at her.

"My only purpose in life is to hurt… not to love. At least, not anymore…" he looked to the ground. "I wish to destroy those who have hurt me, my wife, and my daughter. You…you gave me that chance, last night, when you where in the bake house. I took the chance that I saw and wanted to end what you were doing to me."

Admitting this to her, looked like a great challenge, she guessed, for he looked as though someone was pulling his tooth out. She did not understand why he said this, that she had a power over him…she was just a simple girl living here with him and the baker. She had never _teased_ him, _provoked_ him. If that was indeed what he was implying, how dare he?

She wanted to justify herself, before she left here, to let him know just how she felt, although she did not really know how. She blushed angrily again at the thought of last night and how she had gotten some sick pleasure from it.

"I am not weak." Hazel stated in a small voice, her normal voice, a stern yet petite voice, without any doubt.

He laughed at this and smiled. "Obviously, not." He said.

His words faded into air as she just stood there, hands behind her, clenched to the dresser.

* * *

**A/N: Ending this chapter off short hand, once again. –cliffhanger!-**

**I will continue in the next chapter, and possibly end it there. I want more reviews! Haha honestly people. If you review I would greatly appreciate it, I mean it's not that hard. I love to write and would love to know how you like it. Perhaps if I get a shit load of reviews I will continue the story forever and take requests of smut :D rofl. xxx**


	12. Memories

**A/N: Lady Saffron- You're my favorite review, thanks : ) Honestly, I knew I was letting you down when I wrote that graphic chapter- lol. I was thinking "she's going to hate me for including such a tragedy, but I have to!" it was my intentions from the beginning, you see :( But all in things leading to the end of the story. I'll continue to update on a regular basis, for you :D but I guess I'm just being a bitchy review hog sometimes, lol. **

**Anyway, for this chapter I highly suggest you go back to the first chapter- the chapter explaining Hazel before she left home, if you don't remember, else you will be left in a state of bafflement! You see, it's somewhat of a "flashback".**

* * *

Sweeney was unsure of this whole situation. He had come to apologize and now things were becoming too awkward, the air too hot, the room to small, and the girl to hostile. He could not blame her, though. How could he?

Hazel unclenched her fingers from the hold on the dresser and stepped back on her feet.

"Damaged people are people to take caution of…Mr. Todd." She said carefully, walking towards the window where he stood and glancing at him between every step.

He turned to her, and then looked to the side.

"When I damaged you, hurt you…"

"Oh, don't fucking flatter yourself!" she spat out loud, leering at him, making him stop abruptly in shock and surprise. Her own words surprised her a little, as well.

Now as she stood there talking, it seemed she was the lion and he was the mouse now. At least, in her mind, that is what she thought.

"Sorry to break the news to you, _Sweeney_, but you are not the one who damaged me; you have that power no longer."

Her winced at her use of his name, and his face became hot at her words. He was angry out of impulse and wanted to slit her here and now, but knew she spoke the truth, and it was best time he admit to himself…

"So I had some power, some control over you, did I?" she said bitterly, looking at him now, hands folded on her chest.

He did not answer, but stood there, silent.

She scoffed at this.

"How sad. A mere "mouse" having power over you, the demon barber who kills and then _eats_ people, I presume? And you like the monster you are, deciding to rape me because of a simple assumption, a simple weakness you are too _bold_ to admit?"

Words came rushing out of her now, and she felt sheer exhilaration, as if she were not talking to him, but slapping him with each word, which, in a case, she really was. Her confidence rose higher than ever, for she felt like a high cardinal spitting accusations at a mere merchant, a wrong doer.

"I'll have you know, I do have a power, Mr. Todd. And all thanks to you. I have the power to speak out, like I have never before, because of you and your terrible ways. I can think for myself, talk for myself, and defend myself, because oh sir, as I said before I am _not_ weak."

She paused, letting him sink in the words. _Bite that_, she thought, as she watched his Adams apple slightly quiver. If she was not in such a state of dread, she would have smirked. Little did she now he quivered out of bottled up hostile anger, not hurt.

She sighed and her chest heaved above her arms. "So I guess, I should thank you now, is that right?" she said angrily, glaring at him all the while. "_Thank you_, Mr. Todd!" she yelled in a rude sarcastic manner.

"Thank you for being such a pompous, vile, bastard who shames his wife and child by torturing innocent people and killing and murdering those who have done nothing to you!"

She screamed the words from the depth of her soul.

Sweeney stood there, completely numb and unable to move.

Realizations hit him head on. All these games, a waste. Lucy was dead, Johanna was gone. And here he was what? Lusting after a young girl while killing people? He wanted to let her know that he truly did not mean for all this to happen, he was just a barber happy with his wife, and that it couldn't possibly be his fault, it was the judges, right? And the bloody years in Australia, years of being beaten and sweating and screaming…

"You are right." He nodded, blinking in the whole predicament. He wanted to say so much more, but could not push aside his pride and find any words…

She looked at him one last time, nodded, and said "Good day then, Sweeney Todd." Daring to use his name one last time.

And with that she walked out the door, down the steps, out the shop, and onto the street.

* * *

Hazel walked the streets in her one maiden's dress and knew exactly where she was going…at least for now. It was bright and sunny outside, but she felt no beauty of this day. There was no beauty in life, after all. She didn't feel the sunshine on her hair or the airy breeze.

30 minutes had passed, and she took in no one in her surroundings. The sounds and smells and noisy crowds of the town had faded out as her boots briskly walked on a dirt road. A big, gravely dirt road out in the country, beside fields of wild flowers and grass.

Her feet ached but she paid them no mind. At the end of the road which she seemed to be walking on forever, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She turned a corner and looked to her left. A large array of old, dirty houses ranged side by side. No one was out today, she noted, as she walked a little quicker now down the road. She knew this place all too well.

A few minutes later she stood in front of a house that seemed completely empty. It was small, of stone, and looked on the verge of caving in. Tears threatened to break loose as she took in her view and thought: _home_

She walked inside to find it barren, as she had hoped, with not even a table or a chair. The living area looked the same, the fire place still old and smelled of burnt ash. She walked to her brothers' room, to find nothing there. Not many images popped into her head, because she had never been close to her brothers anyway, but the memory of them was still etched in her mind, there fiery spirits seemed to dance on the walls.

She lingered with each aching, throbbing step.

Her boots made a loud noise as she walked to her own room, which she had shared with her beloved sister Addie.

She smiled just a tad at the room, remembering nights of watching Addie brush her hair in the looking glass, trying on her gowns and looking like a raggedy poor princess…she had hoped to be like her when she was younger, but now she was just another woman. Other memories popped into her head as well though, making her cringe and quickly leave the room…all involving her Uncle.

Last, she made her way to her mother and fathers room. It was small, and held nothing but a drawer-type thing in the corner of the room. Hazel walked over to it and opened each of the drawers. Nothing. But on the ground beside it, she spotted a piece of cloth.

She knew it all too well as soon as she first laid eyes on it. It was her mothers handkerchief that she had made for Hazel on the winter she turned 13, along with all of the other children, with her named stitched into it and everything. She took an intake of breath, looking at it, remembering when her mother had first made it.

* * *

"_Hazel, here's your hanky as well, I made it with your name an' everything, ain't it fancy?"_

"_I don't want it. I don't need a handkerchief."_

"_Hazel now, what's the matter with you? Accept the gift love, I made it for you."_

"_No mama, I don't deserve it. I don't want it! I don't!" _

"_Child, what's wrong with you? Did I raise you this way, so hostile? Don't you love us…?"_

* * *

She stared down at it, tracing the words with her fingers, reminiscing on those bad memories.

She held it to her chest and walked outside, to the front porch. She sat down on one of the steps and looked out into the fields of wild flowers. She and her family had once sat here, all together, her father smoking his pipe, her younger brothers playing in the dirt, mama and Addie pampering themselves with the baby. Thinking of it now, it seemed so so distant, so long ago; yet, so normal and happy; A poor family, struggling to get by, full of children who were a little wild, yet still happy enough to stay together happily and sit on the porch, just enjoying being together, in harmony. The thought of it made the tears she had held back flood down her cheeks like rain. She buried her face in the handkerchief with her name on it, trying to find a trace of her mother, Addie, the baby, hell, even papa or one of the boys.

What happened to that life? What happened to me? Where are they now, and are they safe? Do they miss me, the girl who never talked and looked nothing like them, like a stranger in her own family…?

She sniffed and looked up, once again, not sure if she would even be able to get up off the porch.

Why had she come here in the first place? Why had she walked all this way to see an old house with nothing in it? Was she just foolish enough to believe that they could possibly be back here? Waiting for her all this time, waiting to embrace her and tell them how much they missed her…

Where am I to go now, she thought. She knew she had to go back to the shop with Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd, or else she'd be out on the streets. She thought it was probably the only place she was welcome…well, they owed that to her.

She lay her head in her hands and closed her eyes for another long while. Then, she looked up to find the sun going down, the cloudy sky threatening rain to come. She had a long walk to go before she got back to town, so she figured she should go now. Ha, the irony, of going back to the shop, in the rain, soaking wet, just like the day after she had abandoned her family forever.

But as she got up she was righteously assaulted by the image of none other than Sweeney Todd himself, standing near a tree beside the house, watching her. Her heart froze in anger. She met his icy gaze and almost felt that she could kill him with her bare hands, right here, right now, to do justice to herself.

She stood up assertively and wiped her face. "What the hell are you doing here?" she screamed at him, fists clenched by her side.

He walked slowly from under the tree and strode towards her.

"I don't know." He whispered beneath his breath, not wanting her to hear.

"What!" she screamed a bit stupidly out of blind rage, at his mumbled answer.

"I…I'm not sure." He said loudly enough now, stopping in front of her, taking in his surroundings in a curious look, as if he had no idea how he had gotten here in the first place.

Actually, that was somewhat the truth. After the girl had told him just how she felt and more, he had watched her walk down the street from his shop window, and hesitantly decided he could not resist following her. Some sick whim of his did not want her to be on the unsafe streets of London, and had planned to take her back by force. But he found himself in a puzzle as she walked for what seemed like forever all the way to Finsbury. His mind kept telling him "What are you doing, you fool, go back and stop following her!" but his feet refused to stop.

"This is your home?" he said rather delicately, as if talking to a mentally ill person. "Well, was, I presume." He added.

The look on the girls face was that of pure rage, and he noticed with slight shock that the fiery golden eyes he had seen several times before were glowering down at him from her stand on the porch.

"Yes!" she spat shrilly to him. "Yes, this is my house, where my family used to live! Why the bloody fuck did you follow me here!? After all that has happened you still won't leave me the bloody hell alone, and now you have followed me all the way to my house , you sick twisted…person!" she screamed it like a child who had just been deprived of her doll.

He merely narrowed his eyes at her words, knowing what she was saying, but not really listening. He had no answers to her questions, no comments to her remarks. He simply wanted to find out why he could not resist this strange pull he had towards her.

But tears where streaming down her face now, he saw, as he had also seen when she came in and came out of the house. Obviously, the memories that remained there where all too much to handle for her, he saw, no matter how good or bad they were.

She fumed and said nothing, but crossed her arms and turned on the heel of her boot, breathing heavily.

They stood there, him watching her back, for a few minutes. He was unsure of how to handle this situation, and his inner demons crossed him to consider taking it to the turn of more violence. But somehow, after a while, after seeing her shoulders heave in another silent sob, he managed to lightly bring his gloved fingers to her shoulder, as in a touch of what he thought was comfort.

As he expected, she cringed backwards and whispered "No."

She could hear him moving a step backwards behind her, and a fuse inside of her lit off suddenly, a spark of fire in her mind blew up.

"Wait." She said loudly, head lifted and voice solid.

He stopped and furrowed his brow.

She turned around and took a step towards him.

"I need your help."

* * *

**A/N: OHHHHH hahahha I am evil I am because I'm leaving you in more suspense :) lol. I'll continue though, as fast as I can. Again, for those of you who don't review just leave me one pweaseeeeee? :D I'll give you cake! xx**


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